A New Chance

[The_Snark]

Judith

Jude tries to draw back a little as he draws her into a hug—the last thing she needed was this guy mistaking her sympathy for a different kind of interest!—but stops as he whispers something. She does pull back a little, to appraise him, and is surprised. Maybe he's not quite as hosed as he looks. "Okay," she says slowly in a low voice, studying him. "Sure. What is it?"

[Xerxes Shadow]

((All right, I can slay the mice! Now on to more pressing matters. What happens with the posters?))

[Wiz]

Dr. Harold Smith a.k.a. Pulse

Harold nods, "Interesting... do let me know what the overall decision is. Oh, and see if you can get them to call us mutates, not mutants..." He looks at his empty martini glass and shakes his head, "I'd better not... I might find out I can have accellerated hangovers too." He pauses his conversation as the dinner is delivered, smiling up at the waitress, then looks back to Uncle Bob after she leaves, "By the way, did you get a list of anyone requesting information on the mutates... from the hospital, the police, and so on?"

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper nods respectfully, saying, "I can't say that I'm surprised. No matter how much it abhores me, no matter how haunted I am by the screams of the innocent, I will always be a killer. What makes the difference is who I kill. No longer will my hands be stained with the blood of the innocent. I do not ask you to like me, to tolerate me, or to do feel anything but hatred towards me. I only wish for the chance to redeem myself. When I bring you the severed head of your sister's killer, his face locked in an expression of pure agony and torment, then you will know what I have truly become."

[The_Lonely_d12]

Earlier that Morning

Dressed in a pair of running shorts and a tank-top, Davan finishes the last of a set of quick pushups, and moves on to the end of his morning regimen...meditation and a mental exercise taught to him by one of his teachers.
Re-tying his dark hair back into a ponytail and settling into a properly relaxed position, Davan closes his eyes and begins focusing slowly on his immediate surroundings...namely the space around his body. As a couple long moments go by, he feels a very peculiar sensation all around him, and opens his eyes, perplexed. Greeting his vision is a strange and shifting mass of energy surrounding his body, barely visible to the eye-namely in being slightly blurry parts shifting around. Startled and shocked, he tries to reach out past the apparition, to find it follows the shape of his body and extends outwards...a sort of aura, one that almost looks as though it were a semi-stationary shockwave. Feeling fairly freaked out at this, he mentally shouts out stop.

The feeling immediately disappears, along with the aura surrounding his body. After a few moments, Davan's curiosity gets the better of him, and tries to mentally bring back the wall of force, thinking to himself what in the world is going on here? I didn't think I hit my head that badly in that odd blast last night... The flickering aura almost cheerfully reappears, and disappears as quickly as Davan commands it to. Thinking out loud, he says

"Well, either you've suddenly learned to send your chi outside your body, your dreaming, or you've gone crazy, Davan. Talking to yourself probably adds weight to the latter, by the way.

As he finishes saying that, a broadcast on the news begins talking about an explosion. Davan begins halfway listening to it, until right around the time he hears the words "Super Powers," and realizes he was in the vicinity of the blast.
"Well now, that's interesting. Super powers...it's like right out of a comic book... I wouldn't believe it had I not seen that...thing...Iwonder what else I can do?

Present Time
Davan, now dressed in a fighting outfit, exits his studio-style apartment, and looks over the various bits and pieces of what was evidently junk strewn about the room, as if they had each exploded.
I'll have to clean that all up later.
Evidently preparing to leave, he frowns slightly and picks up what looks to be a quiver of arrows, a bow, and a couple of pouches/sacks.
People have been doing crazy things today...I might be needing this stuff if I do get in a fight with some of these other...mutants, i think we've been labeled? Some of these people have gone seriously bonkers.

Shrugging and putting on the small amount of equipment he picked up, Davan walks out the door, and locks it behind him. Turning towards the stairs, he suddenly has a flash of inspiration, and a gleeful grin crosses his face. Simply facing the alleyway below, he looks both ways for any onlookers, and leaps down as easily as if he stepped down a level.

Okay, that is still so cool. Right then, where to now? There isn't any tournament or fight going on tonight, and I'm not sure there would still be one after the explosion. Wouldn't be much of a challenge, either...sure, it'd pay, but it'd be boring. Maybe one of these other "supers" is running around spoiling for a fight...how else am I going to learn better how to use what I've got, eh?

Davan sets off towards the center of the city, strolling along and looking for all the world a blissfully unaware, albeit strangely garbed, citizen. Stopping at the corner, he thinks back to the previous night's events, and the sudden wooziness that caused him to lose the match.

Maybe I should go visit the hospital...it cleared up real quick, but I'd better make sure. Besides, they probably know better what's going on with everyone getting super powers and whatnot.

He turns the other direction, and walks towards the hospital.

[blennus]

“Fauntleroy”

He pondered his options for a while. Either he could try to get Angie back by playing some pranks on her, heh that brings back memories… or he could basically try to stop her from pulling any new pranks. As he sat there pondering, he decided that finding out what she was planning was probably fruitless, as she was far more intelligent than he. Rather the best course of action was revenge. Sweet revenged would be his. She had gotten him really good though, he had to give her that much credit. But the tables would be turned soon enough. If she got him back by cleaning up his apartment, he would get his revenge by doing the opposite! He feverishly began working on a stink bomb. Normally he would have most of the stuff he needed on hand, but since Angie had been on a cleaning spree in his apartment, he had to go looking. It had taken a few hours to root through his and his neighbor’s garbage to find all the stuff he needed, but now he was ready. “One week old mackerel defrosted, one cup soured milk, a half dozen rotten eggs, and to top it off, a whole bulb of garlic. Puree until a fine paste, leave in a hidden place for a few days, and Bingo! Heh. This’ll teach her not to mess with me!”
He snuck out, and started toward her apartment. It was already getting very dark, so he hurried toward her pad. As he approached, he noticed a limo in her parking space. What the heck was she doing with a limo? He figured it was part of another prank she had in store for him, so decided to ignore it. Then he hit upon a brilliant idea. Angie couldn’t afford a limo, so it was probably a rental. Of course as he didn’t have the keys to the limo, he couldn’t just plop it inside. He would have to come up with something else. He looked at all the doors and windows of her apartment, but they were all closed and locked.
Just when he thought his luck had run out he remembered that Angie had the habit of leaving a spare key to her house underneath one of her potted plants that she kept outside. Then he spotted it, a single dead plant, among plenty that were in bloom. That had to be it! He ran over and indeed as he had suspected, the keys were there. To his luck it also had the limo keys as well; she had been quite careless. He quietly unlocked the door to the trunk of the limo, put the jar in place, then crept back and returned the key to its previous resting place, so none would be the wiser.
Laughing all the way he skipped home knowing that Angie would have a serious problem on her hands. As he entered his apartment the clean smell again disgusted him. He needed to do something about that, but it could wait till the morning. He changed into his pajamas, which were now clean for the first time in months, and climbed into his bed and had a restful nights sleep.

Summary: Fauntleroy the jerk plants a stink bomb in “The Man’s” limo. Signing off for the day for Fauntleroy and “The Man”.

OoC: Strange, but I think my character is the only one that's actively sabotaging his other self. And just for the sake of clarity, "The Man" is actually the one that cleaned his own apartment, and then fell asleep on the couch in exhaustion from all that work. Dang it I knew I missed something in one of my posts. Ah well, this should clear up any confusion.

[dfpiii]

((Sorry about the length of this post - I promise to keep them much shorter in the future))

Professor Lachlan Dark aka Paragon

Doctor... no, it wasn't Doctor anymore... Professor Lachlan Dark was awoken at 6AM by the beeping of an electronic alarm clock. The credit for inventing the first mechanical alarm clock generally went to a man called Levi Hutchins of Concord New Hampshire, though Levi never patented his particular design and household clocks which sounded bells had of course been in existence for several hundred years before that.

...Why that thought had occurred to him so clearly at 6AM he had no idea.

He heard a helicopter pass in the street above his hotel room. Presuming that the helicopter had maintained a constant speed, the change in frequency of the sound as observed by him meant that it was travelling at about 90 knots. Unless he was mistaken it was a Robinson R22HP - the best selling two-seater helicopter of its day. The model was maybe 30 or 40 years old now and most likely in commercial use at this time as a traffic copter. It had a book speed of 102 knots maximum when new.

...Given its age, it was really gunning it.

And he had no idea how he knew that at all. He hadn't even thought about it. Aviation engineering wasn't even his specialty. And he was pretty sure it was impossible to calculate speed based on the Doppler effect in your head.

He sat up in bed and looked around the plush room - almost a suite in that it had a writing desk and a coffee table. Something wasn't right. Or at least something was very different.

He grabbed his glasses from the night stand and put them on. He took the glasses off and looked around again. And put them back on again. Then took them off. He repeated this process just be sure, cleaned his glasses on a tissue from the same night stand and tried again.

While spontaneous cures did result in several diseases, he had suffered retinal scarring more than 20 years ago as a result of infection and in the intervening period there had been no medical advances which could treat his condition and no record of positive change - it was progressive and degenerative. Eventually, in about 10 years, he was supposed to go blind. He was definitely not supposed to wake up one morning with 20-20 vision.

"Woah!" he said - and immediately decided that a department head at the Randolph Institute of Technology should never, under any circumstances however pressing, say that. This once he forgave himself.

The hands he had been using to put his glasses on and off were not the ones he had gone to bed with.

Calmly he took one his new black moleskine notebooks - square paper - from his briefcase and began to take notes. If nothing else they would help a psychiatrist in diagnosing his particular hallucinations - if that was what they turned out to be.

1. Vision is restored. Able to read a magazine headline from across the room, but not the small text, indicating that the level of vision would be considered average to good.
2. Physical body is entirely altered. Although I do not have previous precise measurements, I appear to have grown 8" and am now approximately 6'4" tall. My chest, biceps, and legs have all increased both in size and in density. The sensation of high density is curious, though it does not appear to have any observable component. Curious.
3. My clothes no longer fit. The new tweed jacket with the leather patches I found so ironic will have to remain a private joke.
4. Cosmetically I have gone from being olive skinned and dark-haired to pale and blonde.
5. I appear to be a physically excellent specimen.
6. The physical changes are accompanied by a disproportionate increase in strength. I was quite capable of lifting the king size bed in my room over my head. This was not especially taxing and as I have nothing larger to test with, determining the limit of my strength is currently impossible.
7. My mental faculties are massively improved. I had a newspaper from yesterday with a Suduko puzzle in it. I was immediately able to visualise all the answers without completing any of the grid. Looking through some of my papers I realised quickly that many of my carefully considered calculations were just wrong. After only a few minutes of studying my old notes, I believe annotations I made constitute a greater contribution to my area of study than my previous 10 years of work.
8. Point 7 is both exciting and depressing.
9. As with strength it is impossible to assess my intelligence given the materials at hand. I suspect there are no existing intelligence tests which would prove adequate.
10. I sense other "abilities". In much the same way as you would be able to feel your tongue even if you didn't know how to speak - I feel that there are untapped capacities within me. It is like acquiring new limbs; invisible hands and feet - though I suspect their manipulation must be learned over time - and what the effect might be I have not the faintest conception.

He called down to reception as the new concierge was coming on duty and asked for clothes to be sent up. This was a nice hotel - the Institute had spared no expense for the one night before he moved into his house - and the request wasn't a problem. He checked out quickly afterwards and was certain that as he had arrived late yesterday the fresh morning staff had never seen him before.

One man had checked in, another had checked out and was already in a taxi speeding through the Sunday morning streets.

"D'ya here about the warehouse explosion?" the driver asked, conversationally.

"No," Professor Dark replied. The lie was on his lips instantly. Of course he knew about the explosion. He'd seen it happen.

The driver explained in as much detail and with as much accuracy as cab drivers everywhere about the chemical explosion, the mutations and that the mayor was making an announcement that morning. He took particular pleasure in mentioning his own sighting of "some dude just flying around".

"It's like some freakin comic book," the driver exhorted. "I keep expecting to see Spider Man swing by or the news to say Doc Oc has robbed a bank".

"Banks don't open on a Sunday," Professor Dark replied. "And they don't hold a lot of money on Monday".

"You sayin give it til the end of the week?"

"No," he replied with a wry smile and left it at that. He caught the reflection of his new face in the driver's mirror. Smiling wryly looked good on him and he decided he would do it more often.

As the taxi continued its journey the streets became quieter and the driver turned his radio up to hear the speech.

Professor Dark listened intently to the live broadcast, especially the point where at least six of these super heroes - and given the nature of the speech he suspected a number more - were present and involved in some sort of fracas.

The description given by the radio from on-site was not clear on exactly what had happened. But he knew from personal experience what it was like to go from weakness to sudden power. The knowledge that he could reach through the plexiglass divider of the cab and crush the driver's skull with one hand was almost like a prompt telling him he should do it. Temptation was the hardest thing to resist: he was sure many others would give in without thought, as quickly as he had lied to this anonymous man.

"I wonder where that guy with the T got his costume so fast," the driver pondered.

"Indeed," Professor Dark replied.

The knowledge that others had also been gifted - similarly or differently - left him unmoved. The actions of these others would determine how he was perceived. Their choices would limit his own. These others were no better than the children of the wealthy families who bought their way into any field their whim took them.

Their existence was uninteresting to him - but their actions might distinguish them as more than random incidents of chance. Until he saw what way the wind was blowing he had no intention of registering his powers... whatever they were... with anyone.

The cab drew up to the main building of the Randolph Institute where he was due to meet with the Vice Chancellor in precisely 3 minutes. The Institute had said the Vice Chancellor had been at a conference the day before, but had deigned to come in for an hour on Sunday to show the newest faculty member around.

Being on time would probably not be regarded favourably. He should have been there conspicuously early. He was, after all, a minor and far from brilliant professor who had been elevated to a prestigious position.

He had been so elevated by the same largesse - the same plutocratic gift - he so despised and was now utterly indebted to and intertwined with. Such arrangements were not simply silence for advancement; once advancement was accepted, the balance of power shifted entirely the other way. But those were thoughts for another day.

The Vice Chancellor took an almost immediate dislike to him, but it didn't matter. His position had been secured by a higher power and he was, as of this morning, a tenured professor. Technically he could lecture twice a week, publish drivel every six months and retire in 30 years to a huge pension, having earned a six figure income all his life. It was a brilliant kind of scam which could only exist in the upper echelons of academia, where the real world was regarded with - at best - curious disdain.

However Professor Dark had recently acquired considerably more ambition.

*** 1 hour time loss

"The house was left to us by your predecessor along with its contents - he had no family," the Vice Chancellor explained, giving Professor Dark a set of keys. "It doesn't have a number, since it isn't on a street. Professor Mulroy renamed the house Apollo when he was recruited in the 1970s".

"He was that Dr John Mulroy? From NASA?"

"Yes, the chief mechanical engineer for the project that put men on the moon. So you understand that the man who previously held this post was a giant".

Professor Dark looked around the hallway and thought, a worthy predecessor.

The house was old, mostly wood-built with an old stone cellar. It had a musty, though not unpleasant, old person smell to it and would need to be aired before he could call it home. Other than that, it suited him very well. It was definitely a professorial residence, crammed with books and antiquities and filing cabinets jammed with papers.

The house was as old as the Institute and had been surrounded by expanding university buildings as time had gone on - so that it stood equidistant from the main building and his own department. The Vice Chancellor had already given him a cursory tour of those facilities.

"With the new academic year starting we haven't had the chance to look around. You would be doing us a favour if you could catalogue the contents. I'm sure much of his personal collection was of museum quality and would need to be adequately preserved. That said the house is part of your terms of employment and it is yours as long as you are with the university," he said, with a tone that suggested he hoped that would not be long.

"Of course," Professor Dark said. By the time he had spoken the words he had already decided to keep anything that was remotely valuable.

"Classes begin tomorrow," the Vice Chancellor continued. "You'll have to meet with your staff as soon as possible, since the lesson plans for the semester were not finished by the late Professor Mulroy".

"Yes".

*** 1 hour time loss

Professor Dark closed and locked the door of the otherwise empty house. He wandered through the rooms looking at a lifetime's worth of collection and clutter and death-forced abandonment. Man does not go back to dust, but fractures and vanishes in more mundane ways. This man, who died; this great man, was now a collection of books, old curiosities, medieval weapons and...

A complete set of darkly glistening plate armour, bristling with spikes, behind glass in a dusty walnut cabinet. It's lustrous shimmer spoke to him like a prophecy.

"Yes," he said involuntarily, already pulling open the cabinet doors. "That's absolutely right".

*** 12 hour time loss

From Mulroy's collection he was soon able to assemble something that felt as if it had been made for him. He stood in front of a tall mirror dressed in that night-black armour covered by an old hurricane cloak. In one hand he bore a shield and in the other Mulroy's razor sharp ancient Japanese katana, which he flash backwards and forwards as if it were a toy. The helmet covered his head entirely, his eyes hidden in the shadow of his cowl.

A utilitarian, he had taken the opportunity to hide some useful items around the armour and the cloak, including a loaded magnum secured behind the heavy steel shield.

This was not Professor Lachlan Dark. This was something yet more exceptional still. A dark knight. A perfect archetype.

This was Paragon.

He felt some urgent need. Having spent the full day going through the house, familairising himself with its every secret, it was now night and he wanted to be a part of that night.

The house was not on a pathway used by the Institute's students at night, and as it was set away from the street there were no lights that shone on it. He left through the back door and was hidden in almost total darkness in the small and slightly overgrown vegtable garden.

"Some dude just flying around... I keep expecting to see Spider Man swing by..."

His instinct, which was somehow even sharper than his conscious mind, told him to run. He had gone no more than a few yards before, with a leap into the air, he found himself aloft. Sustained in flight. Soaring under what he could only imagine was somehow his own power.

He quickly gained altitude. Surveying the city streets from on high, he felt he was unlikely to be spotted as a black mass against the black sky.

A memory came to him there in that dark, colourless world between the stars and the streets. A memory of a girl murdered and the boy who would never face justice. And his part in that.

Guilt was an unacceptable complication and would have to be dealt with.

***

((Paragon is looking for some sort of criminal activity that he can intercede in. "On Patrol". Anything he can get is fine, though anything involving one of the new "supers" would be ideal. He'll spend 2 hours looking and then head home if he doesn't find anything)).

[BloodyAngel]

"Ethan"

"Wow... That's... uh... wow." Ethan will say, with the same expression one might bear if someone on the subway stood up and declared that they were the king of the ducks.

When she finally returns to being a person (or close)... He will finally speak up.

"So... No labs and stuff? I was worried that we were going to end up in someplace getting... like... poked with needles and stuff. Maybe I just watch too much X-files... but like... a whole bunch of people who can do stuff like... walk through walls and shoot fire and fly and stuff. I mean... I was afraid we'd all end up in cages and stuff until they make some mind-control chip to make us do whatever they... like... want to. I mean... america is the only place that has mutants now, right? We could... like... end up forced into some military thing. Like, the first national mutant brigade!" Ethan will ramble , "My dad reads all these goverment conspiracy books... It's crazy. It could like... totally happen!"

For the DM

Spoiler

Show

AAAAND telepathy! Over the course of the conversation, Tasha is finally going to get bold enough to try to read her thoughts. Starting with just surface thoughts, as always... but if it works, she'll get brazen and try to pick through the girl's memories... short, then long-term... I have to test it on a mutant sooner or later... PP is spent. I believe the DC is 23 (Charisma mod + 1/2 level + my two focusing feats... yes?)

Regardless, she'll see if the girl is telling the truth, and if any tests or secrety stuff has been done on her. Plus, just generally learn how her powers work and voyeur a bit through her memories and feelings. It's quite fun. Is she actually as scatterbrained as she seems?

[PlasticSoldier]

Keys… check, dog… check, guns… check, First act of supervillainy… priceless.
As he pulls out of his driveway in his van, Josh notices a paper taped to a signpost which he stops to get out and read. Huh, I think this gives me an idea he’ll think to himself before getting back in his car and continuing the non-eventful drive towards the bank. He’ll stop in a neighboring building’s parking lot, turn his lights and engines off, and observe the bank.

Geez3r I need answers to the following questions plus anything you think is important.

Any lights on inside the bank?
Any lights that cast a glow on the bank?
Any cops, guards, PC's nearby?

[geez3r]

Sorry it took me so long to get this all together, but I kept getting distracted when trying to type this all out.

Judith

"It's a secret. Hyu hef to promise me dat hyu'll keep it a secret. My boss vould kill me if he found out Hy schowed hennyone. It's near de varehouse, so ve hef to be schneaky. Lets go!" He starts tugging on your arm to get you to come with him so he can show you whatever it is.

Joe

Nothing happens with the posters quite yet. It's been maybe like 3-4 hours since you had the idea to go hang them up all over town. Besides, the message "MUTANT WANTED. SUBSTANTIAL BUT TEMPORARY CHANGE IN SLIGHTLY HUMAN BODY NEEDED. FOR DETAILS SEND EMAIL TO {email}" could mean any number of things. For all people know this could be a sting operation designed to catch mutants who want to use their (illegal) powers on people. The only way a mutant would know that they could change the way someone else looked at this point would be if they had tried it out.

Long story short: patience grasshopper

Pulse

Your uncle orders another martini and doesn't respond until he gets his new one, at which point he says "Well, many people who could get their hands on the list could also do it discreetly and without raising attention. So for sake of argument, we'll assume that every officer ranked Lieutenant or above and about 40% of the Sergeants of the police force all have the list of names. So that's only about 14 people there. Then we'll say that head of every major department of the government has it as well, so that's another 8, plus the Mayor and his cabinet for another 8. The top doctors at St. Paul's probably have the most complete list there is, but I trust those guys.

So that's everyone we would expect to have easy access to the list. We left data collection to only those officers who have shown great loyalty to the force, so we can say that the media hasn't got a copy of the list.

So that brings us to the real matter at hand, and that would be those outside of the government and police who got their hands on the list. I assume it to be natural curiosity that nearly everyone on the list asked who else was on it, and the officers would have probably given them a shorthand list if asked, but nothing very official. Members of the board for both Balchem and Forthwind have also requested to have a copy of the list, but have been denied. There has also been several civilian attempts to get the list, mostly from just fanatics throughout the city. We have their names here: James Turner, Kyle Bebber, Damien Neech, Leslie Rew, Mary Book, and Harold Selic. That's just about it."

Reaper

Bolt just glares at you "You really don't get it, do you? I will never accept aid from you, no matter what it is, on shere principal. You are not even human; you are nothing more than a mistake, now stop talking and wait for Inferno to get back."

Davan

You eventually get to the hospital and the receptionist asks you "Is there anything I can do for you deary?"

Professor Lachlan Dark aka Paragon

You fly about for roughly 20-30 minutes before you spot something moving about on the ground. A van had just pulled up in front of a jewelry store, and 2 men had just gotten out of the back, wearing ski masks and holding bats. They probably plan on doing some "late-night shopping".

Roll initiative, and you get to act in a surprise round.

"Ethan"

Erica starts laughing when you start opening up on the paranoid rant. "Well, they like kinda put you in a lab, because like all the good stuff they have is like in a lab, out of the way of the normal things. But you're not like strapped down or nothing. In fact, they like have to ask you if they can treat you after they explain what they're going to do and stuff. One of the doc's said it was because this is like privately owned and stuff, so they like don't have to treat you or nothing. But I was kinda still a little dopey, so maybe I got it all wrong and stuff.

But I like don't have worry about the military and stuff. Like could you imagine me like being all at attention and sir yes sir stuff!?" At this point, Erica turns into a small little kitten (which is bright red) and tries to do a little salute with her paws, but fails miserably, yet still looks really adorable. She returns to her normal for giggling.

"Behind the scenes" - You worm her way into her surface thoughts with great ease and you realize that she isn't nearly as scatter brained as you thought she was (but still scattered brained). You find out that her senses have been extraordinarily enhanced: she can hear the heart beat of a fly in the room, count the number of little lenses on the fly's eye, and by smell alone tell what Ethan had for breakfast 2 days ago (3 grade A eggs, with melted swiss cheese). So all of these images and sensations are flooding into her, and she's processing them quite quickly. Besides that, you also learn that she has been telling you the entire truth, and has not intentionally lied at any point.

You also get into her short term memory, with a bit of difficulty. You learn that she was tripping on E and acid when she got her powers, but they were nearly out of her system by then so she wasn't that messed up, she just really thought she was because she kept changing form. Other than that, it's mostly just random, everyday things.

When you try getting into her long term memories, you basically run into a mental wall. No entry.

Also note: when you use these reading powers, you need to "ask" 4 questions which I answer honestly. So if you want to "ask" specific questions, then I'll tell you what you want to know.

Legion

The lights in the bank are off as far as you can tell. You can also see 1 guard inside from your angle, with a flash light. There may or may not be a second guard inside, but you're not sure. I had written Paragon's part before you posted this, so he's off battling other bad guys.

[PlasticSoldier]

{At this point blueprints would be really helpful}

Josh will take his knife & pistol, conceal them (obviously), wander over to some convenience/liquor store buy a 40, rub a quarter of it on his face and shirt, wander over to the bank in his best drunk stagger holding the bottle, lean on the door while keeping his face looking away from any obvious cameras, and say "" 'Ey gaurs can I like use your resroom full a secon?. At the same time he'll look around for other guards and anything else of note.

Spoiler

Show

Bluff - (1d20+14)[29]Disguise - (1d20+6)[18]
Diplomacy - (1d20+18)[37]GatherInfo - (1d20+12)[15]

[The_Lonely_d12]

Davan

this was probably a stupid idea. Oh well, it'll look strange if you just leave now.

Trying to look nonchalant, Davan say to the receptionist
"Hi there...I know I probably should have just called instead of walking over here, but it was such a nice night out, and...anyways, last night I sorta hit my head a little, and got really woozy an hour or two later...I was a little worried that it might be a minor concussion. That's really sort of a minor issue at the moment, I'm feeling pretty good right now. I was more curious about this big "mutant scare" that's going around the city. Can I get any details? Is anyone in danger from mutating or anything? I think I got hit in the blast-where I hit my head-and I didn't know if I needed to be checked out or anything.

He looks around the room, looking for anything or anyone looking out of the ordinary.

[The_Snark]

Judith

"Hey, I'm not the kind of person to turn a guy in. I'll keep quiet," she promises. Well, she wasn't going to turn him in to his boss, that was for certain... Boy, he must have screwed up pretty badly. She gets up. "Keep it quiet, then, got it. Right behind ya."

Spoiler

Show

Bluff (1d20+10)[30], with a possible circumstance modifier for a half-truth rather than an outright lie.
Hide (1d20+16)[18], Move Silently (1d20+16)[19] if needed. Spot and Listen checks are +10 each.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper sighs. "So be it." As he falls silent, the faces return, hundreds of innocent lives he had taken. Such was his punishment, and he hoped that it would be penance enough.

[Xerxes Shadow]

After pacing around in his apartment for hours, Joe finally realized he was being too impatient. He decided that a little practice with his swords would do him good, as he was expecting a fight coming up. He was itching for action anyway, and he was still feeling bad about the cop from earlier, so he wanted to take out a couple criminals to even the score.

He left his apartment and jumped building to building until he got to the South Side of Rainport. He attempted to conceal the shotgun from under his trenchcoat with little luck and walked around the back alleys, waiting for some idiot from a gang to show up.

SUMMARY: Bait the gangs, while trying lamely to conceal the shotgun. ROLL: I couldn't think of any concealing skill but Bluff, which came out as 28. Also I found out how to link properly.

[Wiz]

Dr. Harold Smith a.k.a. Pulse

Harold nods, "That's about what I expected. I don't expect to get anything from this list at present, but we'll see what names keep showing up as other matters arise." He begins to attack his dinner with some gusto, "Thanks for that, Uncle Bob... and don't forget to call on me if you think you'll need me." Harold will continue with polite family chitchat, unless there are some other matters his Uncle wishes to discuss.

[dfpiii]

Professor Lachlan Dark aka Paragon

Paragon descends from the sky like a raven, his cloak spreading out around him like wings. He lands heavily on the asphalt behind the thugs with their baseball bats.

His sword remains in its sheath over his shoulder. He pummels the first with a mighty downward stoke and uppercuts the other on the return sweep, this armour ringing with the sound of combat and his fist shimmering as the blows land.

The black knight himself does not make a sound.

Spoiler

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Roll for Init = 18+1 = 19
Surprise round attack hit 26 and damage 12
First combat round attack hit 15 and damage 16
http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1366735

Using 2 power points for the attacks.

I'm not using action points to pull punches.

[BloodyAngel]

Heh... sorry. I forgot about the "questions" part.

QUESTIONS

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What does she know about the "Private" company which is tending to all the mutants?
What tests does she remember them doing to her?
(for my own sake if I ever need to possess her) How does she use her powers? If there is a trick to it, I need to know it, or I can't use them.... er... not that I'm planning to steal her body... break into the testing lab... and run amok.
and lastly... since she's probably been aware of all the goings on here since she arrived... has she seen/heard/anything about a mutant with mind-reading or mental powers ANYTHING like the ones I have?

Ethan will look relieved... though in the back of his head, Tasha is a bit confused. She's never had trouble reading someone before... Maybe other mutants were resistant? She was a bit afraid of that.

"So... People aren't freaking out? Because a lot of the people I know were. That's why I didn't want anyone to know I came here. I heard that there's hate-groups already. I don't know if I can deal with this..." He will say, looking around. The attempts of the cute kitten to amuse him JUST enough to make him crack a smile.

"That's such a weird power... Can you... like... turn into anything, or just small, cute stuff?

[Emperor Demonking]

"Thank yoy for that." Said Michael as he left for his house, maybe there'd be a case or he'd be able to think about how to use the information he had.

[geez3r]

Legion

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Place holder for the map. I'll upload it in a moment.



Red is you, blue is guards, those are offices on the left and right. The two short perpendicular lines indicate a door, but they're all locked. the squares with the large number of lines are stairs down.

You drunkenly stagger up to the door and successfully draw the guard's attention. From your new angle, and from the time elapsed since you when and boozed yourself up, you can now see 2 addition guards. The one on the left looks like as if he was just making his rounds in the side offices, and the guard in the far back looks like he just got out of the john himself as you can see him adjusting his fly. When you ask to be let in, the guard at the door, looks to the other guard at the front, who merely shrugs. He says something to the guard in the back, that you can't hear, and the proceeds to dig around in his pockets for a moment before digging in his pockets for a coin, which he then flips and catches. After looking at the result, he takes a key ring off his belt, and unlocks the door, letting you in saying "Any funny stuff and we thump ya one, kapeesh? It's down the stairs back there."

Davan

"There is some unknown mutagen in warehouse that exploded, which causes people to change. We're not exactly sure what the chemical is yet, but we've been working on it all day. Well basically deary, if you were in the blast radius, there is a really good chance that you'll develop some sort of mutation, truth be told. However, there have been several cases where people in the midst of the blast have not been affected at all. We can determine if you have the mutagen in you with a blood sample if you want us to. You could spend the night for observation if you so wish, or you could quite literally walk right out that door and never return, deary. It's Dr. Wilson's strict policy that we don't force any treatment on anyone, especially those affected by this new incident. So what'll it be deary?"

OOC: I am really starting to enjoy being this receptionist character

Judith

He gives a drunken "yay" and heads out the door with you in tail. You make relatively slow progress because of all of the boozer's staggering, but it appears he pretty much knows which way to go. You also notice that he seems to be leading you in the direction of the blast, which isn't all that surprising. After about 15-20 minutes of drunken stumbling, 3 scared cats, and a poorly placed trashcan, you arrive at your destination.

The building in front of you is basically entirely non-descript, except for 2 defining features. Firstly, it has a really old rusted sign on the wall that reads "Balchem" and secondly, the quarantine line runs right through the middle of the building. The boozer pull out a set of keys and unlocks the door... after about a minute of fumbling with the lock. He holds open the door saying "After hyu."

For some reason, something feels a bit off.

The Reaper

After several moments of silence between you and Bolt, you see a familiar light coming down the hallway. A moment later, Inferno reappears in the doorway, with a doctor in toe. The female doctor has blond hair, round glasses, is professionally dressed and appears to be in her late 30's early 40's. Inferno says "I've talked to the Police, and they say before we consider anything, they first want Doctor Fritz here to give Reaper a bit of a psychological analysis and get inside his head a little." Bolt nods in understanding.

The doctor sits down in one of the chairs and looks like she's about to start, when she hesitates and looks back at the others gathered and says "The matters of the mind are a personal matter, could you please give us some privacy?" The Supers exchange glances, and then nod, and start heading out the door. Inferno asks Bolt "Do you think you can hold down the fort while I get some shut eye?" Bolt nods, and then Inferno starts flying off to get some sleep.

After the door closes, you hear the guards muttering to one another, and a few of them walk away, something about a bathroom break and coffee. Bolt's light is still visible under the door, but he appears to be a little down the hall.

Doctor Fritz settles in and takes out a clip board, and looks at you. "Well, why don't we start things off with you telling me a little about your self?"

Joe

You hang around the South side for roughly 20-something minutes before you see a group of 3 guys wearing blue starting to approach you. Their "leader" in the middle says "Hey man! You must be pretty brave to be all alone out here by yourself. Tell ya what, if you give us all the money i your wallet right now, I can guarantee that you won't get yo head busted open right about now."

The guy on your right is a heavier build than the other 2, and he's got on brass knuckles. The middle guy pulls out a switch blade, and the left has baseball bat.

Roll initiative.

Pulse

*family chitchat*

Professor Lachlan Dark aka Paragon

Your first shot clunks the guy solidly on the head and he is really hurting, but still standing. Your uppercut however, sends the poor mook flying up after a sickening crunch is heard as your fist makes contact, and he lands with a solid thud on the roof of the van; he does not move after that. The guy you clocked earlier takes up his bat and tries to take off your head with it, failing miserably. Then the driver gets out of the van, while cocking a shotgun, but you seemingly dodge the shot before the trigger is even pulled.

New round.

{Note to self: Make mooks more powerful}

"Ethan"

"Well yeah, there's like always going to be idiots out there and stuff and they'll like always be a pain, just ignore them. Some people like just don't get it, but I like to think that they will in time. Like there are even some people that were in the blast, they really think mutants like us are like horrible monsters. But I think there may be like an upside to all this is that we can like stand out easier. Like if we do good and stuff, it'll be easier for like everyone else to seperate us from the bad feelings they have for like all the others. Like that Jen nurse who helped out the Mayor and around the hospital, people like totally love her.

Yeah, my power's pretty weird. I can like change into all of the.... ummm... uhhh... what was that word again?.... Started with an M... uhh.. mongrel?.... marsupial... ma... ma.... ma...... MAMMAL! That's it. Yeah so like all the mammals and stuff. At least that's what the doc said. I really don't believe him cause I was like a rhino for a bit, and that isn't like a kitten at all. I can't control the color though, which is really weird."

"Behind the scenes" -
The Private company is Dr. James T. Wilson, he owns the whole place, and pays everyone's salary. Erica met him briefly and thinks highly of him.

tests- She remembers them trying to take a blood sample with a standard needle and failing, they eventually got a blood sample with a mini-drill thing. They got a throat swab sample, and a strand of her hair to run tests on. She also got an MRI, but the test came back totally useless due to her different physiology.

Powers- She can't really explain how her powers work, they just do. It's like moving your arm or something, you just do it, but not necessarily know how. A certain degree of concentration is necessary to stay in a chosen form, the average person could do it, but Erica has trouble because she's a scatter brain. Color is beyond her control.

other mentalists - There are 2 people that she heard about. One is a little 8 year old girl, up on the 6th floor who's got weird powers, and a guy on the 3rd floor that can basically pick up people's base emotions and not much else, but can move a lot of stuff with his mind, but not with much finesse. He's about 32.

[Xerxes Shadow]

Initiative- 23.
If I go first, here's what happens:

Without saying a word, Joe menacingly drew his shotgun and raised it high, aiming at the thug with the switchblade. Here we go, he thought. My first public debut! He fires at the man, rolling a 15. If he hits, damage is 14.

If I go second, here's what happens:

Without saying a word, Joe drew his swords and struck at the thug with the switchblade. Here we go, he thought. My first public debut! He brings the sword down, rolling a 29, and steadies himself for their coming attacks. If he hits, damage is 13.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper sighs and thinks for a moment, trying to decide how to begin. He then says, "Well, I won't tell you my real name, as too many people would seek my death if it was known who I am. I remember little of my early childhood. I was happy enough, I suppose. I had two parents who loved me. Then one night, it all changed. I was sleeping, when I awoke with a pain in my chest. I now believe that I had some form of heart attack, but at the time all I knew was pain. I passed out, and nearly died. I could feel my life failing me, a feeling no child should ever have to feel. I struggled against it. I fought and scratched and clawed against it and I didn't die. I awoke, and I was alive. But death would not be denied. I slept and I awoke and my parents were dead. With my own two hands I killed them, and my heart died with them. I left my home, and I lived on the streets, stealing to survive and killing to keep death at bay. Each life I took, I caught a glimpse of death, and I feared it.

Eventually, my talents for murder led me to become an assassin, and I found my way off the streets and into a trade which would keep death from catching up to me. I was an assassin for several years, until the accident. I was near the warehouse when it exploded, and I gained my powers. Now I had the power to kill with impunity, to slaughter so many that I would leave death far behind. And so I thought that I could never die.

Then, after the events at the mayor's speech, where I was defeated by Bolt and the others, I realized that no matter how far or fast I ran, death was always there, and would not be appeased. How gladly she would take me, despite the hundreds I had sent her. Then I realized what I had done, truly realized. So many dead, and all for nothing. I could practically see death laughing at me. Worse, I could see the faces of all those who I had killed. I am lucky that I no longer sleep, for my dreams would be haunted by the screams of dying children. Death will have no more from me. I have paid my debt, paid it many times over, and with blood that was not mine to give. No more shall she feast on the blood of the innocent. None shall she have from my hand save those who feed her, like this one who killed Bolt's sister. If I was just, I would give her my own life, but I have bought my time, and now I will make her regret she gave it to me. I cannot undo what I have done, but I can atone for my crimes. I ask only for that chance. So, Doctor, do you have any specific questions you wish to ask me now, or have I pretty much covered it?"

[PlasticSoldier]

Legion

"Ke... Kapeez... K-K-Kapeesh." Legion then follows the mans directions (drunken swagger included) while reading the signs on the bank doors and continuing to search for cameras.
Once he gets to the bathroom he'll search around for hiding spots, create a clone and send #1 to the van where he will take some duct tape and cover the license plates, drive around the bank where the guards can't see, turn the lights off and park behind the bank in its parking lot. Behind the bank #1 will use some of the Tan makeup to change his skin's color and check the drill for workingness.

Note: Orig still has pistol, knife, and beer.

Spoiler

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Spot Cameras and Bank doors - (1d20+4)[5]
Take 20 on Search for 25

[BloodyAngel]

"Ethan"

"That sounds like a good idea... Maybe I'll go and talk to some of them. I'm still not sure about this whole "going public" thing.

Ethan will bid the... very strange girl... farewell. And head into the hall to look for these other mutants that are about... and in doing so, will run into a confused-looking Davan.

(A brief description... not that this body is permanent. Ethan is a tall, athletic looking kid in his early 20's or late teens. He has short, tossled brown hair and is wearing a faded AC-DC shirt and jeans.)

Hey. You... uh... here because of the mutant thing too? He will say to the new guy, You don't look 32.

[evisiron]

The room was dark. The small amount of light was all that had illuminated the small student apartment throughout the night. With daybreak though, patches of light began to break through the old blinds. With these new shafts of light, a careful observer could discern many things about the room. It was small. It was cluttered. Snack food wrappers littered the floor, breaking the bleak scenery of open RPG books and forgotten laundry left on the ground. Aside from the desk holding the inert computer screen, the only piece of furniture was a dark bed, covered in dark sheets. In its centre, a form could be discerned. An unmoving figure, sheltered by sheets and a hardback book with Vampire written on it in silver, above the image of a rose on a green background.

The room is completely silent. Even the oft forgotten sound of breathing is absent.

The spot of sunlight crawls lazily across the floor as the hours pass by. Eventually, the light falls upon the flesh of an unnaturally pale hand. Within seconds, the skin begins to darken…

With a sudden reaction, the figure lurches into sitting position. Without the cover of the sheets, it can be seen that the figure is somewhere in his twenties. His clothes are black and baggy, and his skin is pale. His face lacks the lines that dictate extreme stress or anxiety, and instead the viewers attention is draw to the scruffy but full beard that seems to have sprouted from his chin. He stands up, and lets a long yawn escape his maw. But when he closes his mouth, two sharp pains meet his lips.

“What the hell?” says Robert Wright to no-one in particular.

Raising his hand to his mouth, he probes for but a second until discovering a pair of long fangs framing his teeth. With a burst of energy, Robert rushes to the bathroom, and stares into the mirror. Indeed, two fangs are sticking from his mouth, in the traditional vampire style.

“No way…”

A dull hunger permeates his being, but he shakes it off. Thinking back, Robert considers the past evening. Noticing a distinct lack of results, he flicks on the TV. A constant loop of information about the local explosion is looped on several stations.

“Huh.”

His eyes glance slowly around the room. Despite the dark, he can see clearly than he has any right to. The hunger returns, although it also feels like an intense thirst. He ignores it. There is a slight pause as his gaze sweeps over the book entitled Vampire. His brow furrows for a moment in contemplation. His casual interest, Robert reaches to the door frame. With a seconds pause, he squeezes the wooden frame tightly. The various materials splinter in his grasp. Large splinters seem unable to find purchase in his flesh.

“Really strong. Tough flesh…and what is with my voice? Its all…brooding.”

Encouraged by earlier success, Robert tightens his grip. A sharp pain shoots through his hand. The end of a nail has forced its way through to the back of his hand. Slowly, Robert pulls his hand off the nail. By all accounts, that should hurt much more. While staring at his hand, the wound quickly closes up. The hunger/ thirst forces its way into his consciousness once again. He forces it down.

“Really fast healing…?”

Robert sits in quiet contemplation for a minute, before flexing his limbs. It is obvious by the expression on his face that he feels stronger than ever before..

“The fangs, the pale skin. The healing and strength. Could I really have become a vampire?”Robert stares at the shaft of light striking a column through the edge of the room. He steps slowly towards it.

“One way to find out I guess… Umm… Aww man, this is going to hurt like hell if I am right”.

Slowly, he leans towards the light, hand outstretched. He pauses, and jerk back. Mustering his courage once again, he leans forward, hand dipping into the light.

He is struck by an intense sense of… nourishment. His skin darkened to a deep blackish green, and he feels the energy seeping up his arm, and into the rest of his body. Various diagrams from Biology classes spin through his mind.

“Photosynthesis… but how… Oh yeah, crazy chemical explosion”

With a bit of effort, Robert manages to force the chlorophyll infused cells back deeper in the surface of his skin, so he appears pale again.

“So…plant powers, that appear to be vampire related powers. I think I will run with the vampire theme. Besides, it will be funny if some villain tries to kill me with sunlight-”

Robert pauses in his monologue. He suddenly realises that he has assumed he will become a super hero. He pauses to think about it. After a few minutes, he pushes the thoughts aside. Hero or villain, he will need some kind of outfit so he can go use his powers.

A few minutes are spent rooting through the piles of junk sitting around. Eventually he finds what he is looking for. An old convention t shirt with NOS-4-A-2 written beneath a line drawing of a grinning digital vampire. He pulls it on then adds an open black shirt over the top to cover the bare arms.

“Nosferatu… that could do as the ‘super-name’ for now. Promotes the whole ‘vampire’ image.”

With a flash of memory, Robert goes through his stuff once more. He eventually finds what he was looking for: Several pieces of riot armour from ‘a friend of a friend’. With such bulky clothes, he can conceal the stuff under the dark fabrics. He also fetches an apparently authentic sword which had been used up to then as ‘part ornament, part home security system’. He is glad he took the time how to use it correctly. After a while he goes to the mirror and looks into his reflection. His a bit of effort, its shape changes into kind of ‘battle form’. He looks more feral, his eyes have turned a dark green, and his brow changes to a series of ridged plates. With a moments effort, he finds he can switch it back.

“That’s kind of cool. Sort of like a leaf folding up. Man, and I thought those Bio lessons were a waste. Still, it couldn’t hurt to have a little extra.”

Reaching into the piles of clothes again, he pulls out a black Buff, and pulls the material over his heard until it covers his throat, mouth and nose.

“Hehe, soul reaver style. Well, I better soak up some sun and practice these powers a bit before heading off…”

[The_Lonely_d12]

Davan

hmm, might be worth doing. On the other hand, I really don't want to be held up here all night. I can always come back.

"I'm gonna have to take a rain-check on that if it's that involved, I have a few things I need to take care of. Thanks for your help.

As he turns to leave, he encounters Ethan, and replies
"No, I can't say that I'm quite that old, why do you ask? And yeah, I'm sorta here for that...just kinda wandered in, to tell the truth. I was about to leave. What can I do for you?

OoC: Description is basically this...slightly shorter than average, mid 20's, fair skin with long dark hair pulled into a ponytail. Currently wearing an unbuttoned chinese-style fighting coat with sleeves rolled up and a plain white tee underneath, with matching-style pants and a pair of sneakers.

[evisiron]

-------------

The now officially named ‘Nosferatu’ spends several hours in his room, adjusting his armour, sharpening his blade, learning to use his powers. His major discovery was that by focusing the energy downward, he could fly. With a fair bit of trial and error, he learns to direct the energy more accurately, and steer with a fair degree of success. By the look of it, the energy is stored pretty well, and a little sunlight should last up to a few days.

----------- [Using 3rd person for narrative purposes, but I should slip back to 1st person for actions, right?]

“Well, I better go see what kind of state the city is on. See if there is anywhere I can lend a hand and test these powers a bit”.

I check I have everything (armour, half mask, sword in black scabbard, clothes, sturdy shoes, wallet with some cash but with all ID and stuff removed, mobile phone but with fresh SIM card and all other stuff deleted), and hop out the window. I will fly around the city to try and spot anyone either
a) Also flying around
b) In distress

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Spot check: roll of 11, + 4 = Total of 15

[Wiz]

Dr. Harold Smith a.k.a. Pulse

After an enjoyable dinner with his uncle, Harold returns to his home and begins to go over his "super" equipment. He plans out a better glider with a noise/smoke producing "engine" that he can switch on or off. He also adds a few cosmetic touches to his pistols that make them seem a bit more science-fictionish. And builds a couple of devices that are nothing more than light/noise makers which he might ascribe some of his other powers to. After working late into the night, keeping the thermostat way up, he polishes off a second dinner before climbing into bed.

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Flyer/"engine" - Craft: Electronics - (1d20+15)[18] (it smokes and makes a low-pitched whining noise)
Sonic screwdriver - Craft: Electronics (1d20+15)[31] (it blinks and flashes)
Magnetic "starfish" - Craft: Electronics (1d20+15)[17] (it magnetically sticks to metal things, and blinks and flashes)

In the future, unless I'm trying for something specific/spectacular - I should probably just take 10 for rolls like these... 25 should cover blinking lights and noisemakers. :)

When he wakes up it's on the early side, though he tossed a bit before finally falling asleep, his brain buzzing away all the time, he still feels refreshed. He takes a hot shower, then turns on his police scanner as he prepares breakfast. After eating he goes to his computer, the scanner still buzzing away on minor crimes that he feels the police can easily handle. He boots up and then frowns as the hard disk whines and then crashes. He shakes his head, realizing that his magnetic signature has thrown the disk off kilter.

[The_Snark]

Judith

Jude hesitates before going in, giving one quick glance around before sliding soundlessly through the door, keeping near the wall and away from the light coming in through the open doorway. Something about the place is getting at her, as if she missed something obvious, and it makes her nervous. Inside her flat, she gets up and starts pacing around the room before making herself a cup of coffee simply to busy her hands.

She gives a slight grin when she realizes what she's doing. Normally, she'd be fidgety, which would make it harder to keep hidden; now, she just fidgets somewhere else. Whatever else this whole business was, it was convenient just at the moment. She glances back towards the guy, waiting for him to come on in before she does anything; she doesn't know whether it's safe to turn on the lights. Or, on a less paranoid note, where the switch is. Hope this guy isn't too boozed to know what's safe... It's not a reassuring thought.

[BloodyAngel]

"Ethan"

Ethan will shrug and slip his hands into his pockets.

"Nothing, I guess. Someone said there was a guy that age here who could read minds. Freaky stuff. So... what do you do? Fly? Spit fire? Turn into multicolored lizards? After all the crap I've seen, I'd believe it.